Show Me Love
by Chaste
Summary: An evil trio songfic, to the tune of 'Show Me Love' by T.a.t.u. First chapter up, rr!


Name: "Show Me Love"  
  
Type: Songfic, "Show Me Love," by T.a.t.u.  
  
Rating: PG13 (for slash, an angry slap, and other stuff)  
  
Disclaimer: How stupid. Of course I don't own Warren, Andrew, Jonathan or anyone else on the show! If I did, I wouldn't just be writing about these things, I'd be making them do it! (mwahahha)  
  
***  
  
This was an accident  
  
Not the kind where sirens sound  
  
Never even noticed  
  
We're suddenly crumbling  
  
***  
  
The small basement was lit only by the blue glow of the computer monitors. The digital clock in the corner blinked out the time, which was currently two twenty three a.m. Stale silence weighted the house down, broken only by the sound of a door opening, and feet padding softly on the carpeted ground.  
  
Creeping into the doorway of the basement's main room, Jonathan blinked hazily, making out the still form of someone sitting at one of the desks.  
  
"Warren?" The short boy's voice was muffled by the night. No response coming, he took a step forward, trying to see what his the older boy was doing.  
  
Walking to the desk, unnoticed, he got within a foot of the computer, before leaning in, curious about what his friend was staring at so attentively.  
  
Swallowing as his vision registered the image, he instinctively felt his heart race, feeling the familiar wave of anxiety wash over him that usually accompanied the memory: It was the police report that had been issued over Katrina's 'suicide'. Warren's "ex" had died only a few days ago, but it was already forgotten within the trio. They never spoke of it, it was too hard to remember. Too hard to think of.  
  
Suddenly jolting to awareness, Warren stood from his chair, eyes wide; obviously not have been aware of the other boy. "What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, his voice husky, and unused. Jonathan noticed with a start that there were streaks down his face, and changed his stare to his feet.  
  
"I...was...just wondering what you were doing..." He stammered, trying to act like he hadn't seen the uncharacteristic tears. "Up so late..."  
  
Warren fumbled to close out the internet window, drawing a sleeves over his eyes. "I was working, dumbass." he spat out, sniffing.  
  
Jonathan nodded, wordless. "You 'kay?" His words came out a bit impulsively, his voice quiet. He suddenly felt sorry for the taller boy. After all, was just like him and Andrew...  
  
Warren's eyes narrowed, a mocking sneer playing over his mouth. "Of course I am." he said, in a controlled voice, his expression of defensive malice. Shaking his head, he smiled, almost ruefully. "I'm always okay."  
  
Opening his mouth, seemingly wanting to say more, his speech was quieted, and instead, he threw a murderous glance the shorter boy's way, and stalked off towards his room.  
  
Jonathan let out a sigh, turning back towards his room, incident leaving him feeling the familiar ardor of imprisonment that the small lair often left him with.  
  
Everything was going wrong. This wasn't how their trio was supposed to work; killing people wasn't in the plan. Shaking his head, the boy made his way towards his laid out bed, almost tripping over Andrew, who was sprawled out on the floor in a sleeping bag, his pillow lying across the room.  
  
The blond stiffened, his eyes opening and looking around unfocused.  
  
Starting to apologize, simply wanting to return to bed, Jonathan closed his mouth when he saw that Andrew was still half-asleep.  
  
Shaking his head in exasperation, he began to take another step when the younger boy's voice started to ring out in the quietly muffled room.  
  
"I swear," he spoke, words quavering, and leaving Jonathan rooted to the stop as he listened to the unconscious confessions of the blond, "...it wasn't my fault," Voice now frantic, he sobbed, breath ragged. "I...didn't do it...I didn't..."  
  
Jonathan bit his lip, the display painful to watch. Continuing his trek to his own sleeping bag, he covered his head with his pillow, trying to block out the other boy's pathetic one sided conversation.  
  
The cushion only achieving to muffle Andrew's sobs, Jonathan sighed again into the covers of his temporary bed. This evil thing wasn't working. 


End file.
